


I Don't Need a Knight (So Take Off Your Armour)

by PrioritiesSorted



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, Pre-A Game of Thrones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1353631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrioritiesSorted/pseuds/PrioritiesSorted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Robert takes a Tully bride, but his children are still Lannisters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently I write fic about my crack OTP now.

_Ser Jaime Lannister was twin to Queen Cersei; tall and golden, with flashing green eyes and a smile that cut like a knife. –_ Jon I, A Game of Thrones

 

* * *

 

Catelyn was fuming when she left the hall. _Does he take pleasure in shaming me?_ She imagined her husband was taking pleasure enough while his brother sat awkwardly next to his new bride, a look of grim determination on his hard face.  _He looks almost as uncomfortable as I feel._

Ned Stark had made an effort to distract her; he had come alone to the wedding, his Lannister bride choosing to stay in Winterfell to recover from the birth of their son. She appreciated his attempt, but Lord Stark was poor distraction when his eyes kept straying to the door through which Robert had pulled Delena Florent, flushed and laughing, almost half an hour previously. It felt an age before she finally excused herself and almost ran towards the rooms she and Robert were supposed to be sharing. _I was not made to be a Queen,_ she thought, the heels of her shoes beating a hard rhythm against the stones as the sounds of the wedding feast faded away, _I cannot bear this shame as though I were stone._

She rounded the corner to finally shut a door between herself and the revelry, only to find Jaime Lannister half slumped against the cold stone wall. She watched him take a long swig from a wineskin he held loosely in his hand.

“Ser Jaime. I wonder if Ser Barristan knows where you are and how you have chosen to occupy yourself this evening?”

He jumped when she spoke, but did not move from his position, glaring determinedly at the wall opposite.

“Does it look like I’m on duty to you? I only came to this buggering wedding to- but it seems I was the only one who made the effort. Besides, it seems I’d only be protecting His Grace from acting like a drunken lecher, and there’s nothing any of us can do about that.”

She knew she should reprimand him, but with the whispers still echoing in her head and the beat of her heart still angry against her ribcage, she did not have the energy or the inclination to defend her husband. Instead, she said simply,  

“You sound bitter, ser.”

“Perhaps I am. I hear misery loves company.” He held the wineskin out, and Catelyn considered it for a moment before shaking her head.

“A wise decision, Your Grace. You would not wish to follow your husband’s example… Though in some things it seems only fair to serve him as he has served you.”

He swaggered into her space, his breath hot on her cheek. They weren’t quite touching, but he was close enough to see the way her heart was pounding beneath the silk of her dress. She would only have to lean a fragment forward to be pressed against his body; she pushed him away.

“I am a Tully of Riverrun, Kingslayer. I took vows, though I wouldn’t expect you to understand. My duty is to my husband, and I would not sully myself with dishonouring him.” The words tasted bitter and hollow in her mouth; perhaps they sounded the same, for Jaime only smiled, green eyes flashing.

“Perhaps you are right, I do not understand the sanctity of your vows, but I understand wildfire. You talk like a fish, certainly, but there’s wildfire in you. You will not let this lie.” He reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear; she shivered as his touch, and stiffened, refusing to lean in to its tenderness.

“You are wrong.”

“You have no interest in paying any debt, then?”

He was everything she wanted in that moment: beautiful and vile.

“None.”

Her legs felt like water as she walked away.

_Family. Duty. Honour._

_Family. Duty. Honour._

_Family._

_Duty._

_Honour._

 

* * *

 

“Did you mean what you said at Stannis’s wedding?” Her question was abrupt. Jaime did not know what he had been expecting when the Queen summoned him to her chambers; it had been almost a year since that night, and he wished he could say he had forgotten it.

“I was in my cups at Stannis’s wedding.”

“That is not an answer.”

“I would like to know why I am being asked.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers clenching into fists around the folds of her skirt.

“Robert has gone to Storm’s End to visit his bastard. I begged him not to. I told him how it would shame me. He did not care to hear. I’m not certain there is room left in me for more shame, so perhaps it is time for me to pay my debts.”

Her voice was clear and even, her back straight and proud, every inch the queen she claimed she was not. It was only in the defiant tilt of her jaw and the blue fire of her eyes that Jaime saw the rage and the hurt she tried so hard to mask. The failing light danced on her auburn hair, brushing bright reds against chestnut. _She is glorious._

He crossed the room in long, quick strides, pulling her flush against him. One hand buried itself in her hair while the other gripped her waist; he could feel the heat of her under the rich fabric of her dress, and it bunched under his fingers as he concentrated on not ripping it off her to run his hands over pale, burning skin.

“Robert is a fool.”

“So are we. This is treason.” Jaime scoffed,

“In case you’ve forgotten, Your Grace, I’m rather well acquainted with the concept.”

A crease appeared between her brows, and Jaime cursed his glib tongue. He knew he should feel repulsed by how much he wanted her; her hair too dark, too red, her hips too wide, her eyes too blue. She was not Cersei, but he wanted her. His lips were on hers before she could think better of her choice.

He knew she would not sigh his name when she came. He knew she would not even think it, but with her pale, freckled thighs a wrapped around him, he found he did not much care.

 

* * *

 

She had thought it would just be the once.

She had thought it would exorcise her need for vengeance, and it had, but the shame she felt when the Kingslayer laced himself back up and strode from her chambers was not nearly enough.

It was not enough to stop her thinking of him that night, hands grasping at sheets so they do not drift between her legs at the memory of his tongue on her skin.

It was not enough to make her grateful for Robert’s clumsy, drunken embraces when he returned from the Stormlands, slurring his need for a trueborn heir into her neck as he spilled onto her belly.

And when the Kingslayer slipped into her rooms a week after Robert’s return, begging simply,

“Tell me to leave”

It was absolutely not enough.

 

* * *

 

“I know it’s stupid and dangerous and a bad idea but would you… would you stay?”

Jaime glanced up from where he was retying his laces. She had her arms around her knees, tucked in as close as her swelling belly would allow, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks. It struck Jaime as odd that she should be blushing _now_ of all times.

She was right; it was a stupid idea, but Robert would be away for days yet, and he would be gone before the maids came. He gave up on his laces and crawled up the bed to take her in his arms again. She smelled of sweat and perfume, and his hand rested on the hard curve of her belly.

_(What if its hair is gold, what if its eyes are green, what if, what if, what if)_

It was stupid of him to stay, stupid of her to ask him, and yet he thought he might love her for it.

 

* * *

 

_The seed is strong._

Generations upon generations of black haired Baratheons stared up at him from the pages of the borrowed book, and Ned did not believe them. _Catelyn Tully is a good woman._

A friend he might be, but Robert had never been a good husband. Ned could see it the stiffness of Catelyn’s smile, the way she tensed when her husband touched her. _She is a good woman, but even she might break._

He wished he could dismiss the idea, for Catelyn’s sake as much as Robert’s, but he could not shake the certainty that settled over him as he thought of the Queen’s children.

The Prince might have Tully blue eyes and a mop of auburn hair, but his smile was quick, and it cut like a knife.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’m frightened, Jaime. What if it has gold hair or green eyes what if it just looks like you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of fluff for this universe that wouldn't leave me alone!

Catelyn knew it was Jaime because he didn’t bother to knock.

“When exactly were you planning on telling me?”

She’d expected him to be angry, known he would rush to her as soon as he’d heard; she had expected the rage that was in his voice and written in the lines of his face. What she hadn’t expected was the hurt.

“Your husband just burst into the throne room boasting about what a good job his cock had done. As if his cock ever spent time on anything worthwhile-”

“Jaime please be _quiet._ I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I just… I didn’t know what to say.” It was a feeble excuse and she knew it, so did he.

“You might have started with, ‘I’m pregnant’. ‘You’re going to be a Father’ might have worked too.” He paused, uncertain, “Unless it actually is…”   

“Of course it’s not. I’m frightened, Jaime. What if it has gold hair or green eyes what if it just _looks like you_.” His expression softened as reached out to stroke his thumb along her cheekbone, as if he would wipe away the tears that were forming in her eyes.

“Then you and I take the little troublemaker and we run all the way North, past the wall, and live as wildlings in the wilderness.”

Cat shook her head, but played along, letting him fold her in his arms,

“No, we’ll go across the Narrow Sea; the North is too cold.”

Jaime laughed,

“It’s a good thing you didn’t end up married to Ned Stark; how could you have coped in the freezing wastes?”

Catelyn tapped him playfully on the shoulder, though it was difficult with his arms still encircling her, pinning her elbows to her sides.

“Ned Stark is a good man.” She admonished, “I’m sure I’d be much happier freezing as his wife in Winterfell than I am here with my embarrassment keeping me as warm as the sunshine.”

“Ah, but with you cold Northern husband staying steadfast in your cold Northern bed, what excuse would you have to be fucking a rakish Knight of the Kingsguard?”

Cat couldn’t help but smile.

“You,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to place a quick kiss on his lips, “are very bad.”

Jaime smiled, and leaned down so his lips were brushing hers when he replied,

“You like it.”


End file.
